


dream maker

by spock



Category: Hollywood (TV 2020)
Genre: Character Bleed, Domestic Bliss, Established Relationship, Feelings Realization, Friends With Benefits, Jealousy, M/M, Nontraditional Relationships, Overstimulation, Post-Season/Series 01, Praise Kink, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:22:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27076438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spock/pseuds/spock
Summary: INT. HOTEL ROOMI'd like to go to Dreamland, Jack'd said, about three pages and one scene back. Rock answered that he'd take Jack there, and here they were.
Relationships: Archie Coleman/Rock Hudson, Jack Castello & Archie Coleman/Rock Hudson, Jack Castello/Archie Coleman/Rock Hudson
Comments: 5
Kudos: 22
Collections: Trick or Treat Exchange 2020





	dream maker

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kissoffools](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissoffools/gifts).



There's this soft look that comes over Rock's face as he's waiting to be kissed. Jack finds himself distracted by it, suddenly hyper-aware of his body, hands awkward down by his sides. He settles them on Rock's waist just to have something to do with them, careful not to grip too tight. 

"I'm not gonna break." Rock whispers it into the air between their faces. He sounds like he wants to laugh, like this whole thing is Goddamn amusing to him. 

Jack grips him tighter, annoyed. "I know," he says.

"Yeah?"

"Ye—" 

Rock's lips settle over his, licking into Jack's mouth. Jack presses up, doing his best to follow Rock's lead, used to being the one to guide things and unsure of what he's supposed to do now that he isn't, Rock taking him on one hell of a ride.

Jack pulls back, sucking in a breath. " _Shit_."

A voice cuts across the soundstage, Raymond calling for them to cut. "Jack, buddy," he sighs, walking up to the bed Rock and he are stretched out on. Jack's halfway there, in a manner of speaking, and he panics when Rock makes like he's gonna move from where he's straddling Jack's lap, hands gripping Rock so hard that his knuckles pop. 

Rock frowns down at him, the very picture of worry. "You alright?" he asks. His lips are wet with Jack's spit and Jack couldn't in a million years tell you just how it is that either of them has ended up here. 

"I'm swell," he says, deadpan, and keeps his grip so that Rock stays right where he is. 

"The script for this scene isn't that complicated, Jack," Raymond carries on. "It's gonna be hard enough to get this one rated as it is, you can't be cursing too."

"Right, sorry," Jack says, or tries to anyway, because it turns into Goddamn squeak when Rock shifts from being raised up on his knees to sitting down in Jack's lap proper, the firm, plush contour of his ass settling over Jack's semi-erect cock. 

His and Rock's eyes catch. 

Raymond frowns. "What's the matter?"

"Not a damn thing," Jack answers, daring Rock to say different.

"Ray, what do you say to a break?" Rock asks, turning away from Jack to look at Raymond. "I think my lips _and_ knees are starting to go a bit numb."

Raymond sighs again, but nods. "That's five, everybody!" he calls to the crew, and the sound of everyone breaking off to see to things takes over the set. Raymond wanders over to speak to one of the stagehands, leaving them alone. 

"You don't gotta be embarrassed," Rock says, climbing off but making sure to drag the blankets up to cover Jack's waist now that his own body isn't serving as a shield. "It's natural."

The bastard sounds so earnest. "For you, maybe," Jack admits, and then a thought occurs. "Say," he nods in Rock's general direction, "are you?" he asks and trails off, embarrassed, feeling like a fool for not being able to so much as say it. 

He turned tricks, for God's sake. 

"Am I?" Rock repeats, confused, before it dawns on him. He laughs, showing off that million-dollar smile that Henry Wilson got for him at a fraction of the asking price. "No."

What does it say about Jack that he's hot and bothered after seven takes of kissing Rock Hudson, but Rock, card-carrying homosexual that he is, isn't so much as breathing hard. 

Nothing good, of that Jack is sure. 

The conversation is enough to settle him down, at least. "I'm gonna go for a smoke," Jack says, getting up and standing there in nothing but his skivvies. A production assistant rushes to pass a robe to him, and Jack shrugs it on, tying the belt tight at his waist just in case his body decides to get interested in things again. 

Rock stays on the bed, perking up when Archie wanders over to speak with him. 

Jack keeps watch on them out of the corner of his eye as he heads back to his actor's chair and fishes out his pack of smokes from his jacket, shaking one out, lighting up. Archie says something that makes Rock laugh quietly to himself. Archie brushes two of his knuckles against Rock's cheek, saying _not bad_ if Jack's lip-reading skills are worth a damn. Rock lights up like a Goddamn Christmas tree, blushing pretty as a picture. 

It's disgusting. 

"Jack, baby," Ernie's appeared at his elbow out of nowhere, scaring the daylights out of him. "You stink."

"Gee, thanks, Ern," Jack gushes, turning it on. "You sure know how to build a guy up." And then, because he can't help himself, "It's that Rock's too damn _good_ if you ask me."

Ernie shrugs. "Kisses a fella every day, doesn't he?" He snipes Jack's cigarette and takes a drag on it himself. "Not that it's any excuse, since it's all make-believe. That dame dropping you really throw you out of wack this bad, kid? Can't even pretend to remember love's young dream?" His hand draws a heart with Jack's cigarette in the air in front of them, smoke fading into nothing just as he's gotten the shape finished. 

Jack isn't in the mood for another lecture on how he moves too fast without thinking things through, or on how the sort of girls who go right along with him can't be blamed for moving on quickly to the next best thing. _Once is bad luck_ , Ernie had said at the time, fingers rubbing soothing circles into Jack's back as he cried himself sick. _Any more than that is a habit, kiddo_. He'd gone to Ernie, not wanting to bother Archie with another case of his heartbreak, but Ernie wasn't nearly as sympathetic, and Jack certainly regretted letting his pride overtake his judgment on that front. 

"It's not fair, is all," Jack carries on. "Rock's got coaching from the screenwriter whenever he needs. I'm out here with my dick swinging in the wind!"

"Arch was your friend first, right? Go get coaching if you need it." Ernie takes another pull and then stuffs the cigarette in Jack's mouth, shutting him up. "Needs to be said though, pal-of-mine: this ain't no competition."

"Alright everybody," Raymond calls, returning to his director's chair. "Places!"

Jack sighs, dropping the filter onto the cement floor of the sound stage and trusting Ernie to be enough of a pal to stomp it out, Jack's own feet bare. 

Rock's waiting for him in the bed, watching as Jack removes his robe, handing it off to someone from the costume department. He's back in Jack's lap a minute after Jack's sat to recline under the sheets, face serious. 

"And rolling," Raymond declares. "Action!" 

Jack swallows thickly, eyes darting across the span of Rock's chest, not daring to look up at his face. "I'm not sure what we're meant to do," he says each word like a confession.

"We aren't _meant_ to do anything," Rock says. "We can do whatever we want, there's no rules for this sort of thing."

His eyes dart up to meet Rock's, fleeting, before they're back on the strong cut of his bare chest. The camera is fixed on Rock's back, the frame capturing Rock from the trim curve of his hips up to the back of his head, not a hair out of place. Jack's face is the only one that's visible, but it feels as if this is Rock's scene and not his. 

That's how Archie's screenplay tells him to act it, anyhow. Like Rock's the one leading him someplace that he wouldn't find on his own. _I'd like to go to Dreamland_ , Jack'd said, about three pages and one scene back. Rock answered that he'd take Jack there, and here they were. 

"I haven't even paid you," Jack says each word in a rush, as if it's been eating at him, waiting to spill out. 

Rock's hand comes up, two knuckles brushing light against Jack's cheek, like Archie had done to Rock during the break. Jack doesn't light up, but his breathing goes shallow all of a sudden, beyond his control and nothing like an actual choice. "You don't pay me, silly," Rock says. "You pay Eddie."

Jack licks his lips. "Alright, well — when do I pay Eddie, then?" 

There isn't a damn reason in the world for Rock to be acting right now. He's a prop that's reciting lines for Jack to bounce off of, could even be a body-double if their budget on this project could scrape that far, yet when his fingers shift to catch beneath Jack's chin, lifting Jack's face up so that their eyes have no other choice but to finally catch and hold, the expression on his face is so genuine that Jack would vote for him to win all the awards this year, no other applicants needed. 

Jack's witnessing magic happen in real-time and it isn't even being captured on film, a performance for Jack's eyes alone.

He looks awed, Jack knows that he must. Though if it registers to the camera as more than Jack being turned-on out of his fucking mind, he won't know until the dailies come through.

"We'll see if I feel like asking him to," Rock teases, his voice soft. "After."

Jack doesn't know what to do with his hands. He settles them on Rock's hips, tentative, as if he isn't sure if he's meant to. If he's got permission to.

"I'm not gonna break." Rock whispers it like it's a secret for just the two of them to share. Even with the boom hovering barely out of the camera's frame over their heads, ensuring that every word is in fact recorded crystal-clear, Jack buys what it is that Rock's selling. 

His fingers tighten, eyes dropping down to look at his hold on Rock. The skin beneath his hands goes pink for a second before turning white from the force of Jack's grip, making Rock look like one of those centuries-old sculptures crafted by the old Italian masters, most of them the exact same type of men Rock and he are, building western civilization out of desires they couldn't share with nobody but each other. 

That's from Archie's screenplay too. Rock's character has all the flowery descriptors aimed at him, gets to say all the good lines. 

Jack allows the annoyance he feels to bleed into his voice, color his face. "I know," he says. 

"Yeah?" Rock's voice is pure teasing, like he thinks Jack is hilarious. Cute. 

That isn't officially in the screenplay, but Archie had coached Rock on it after their third take earlier in the morning. _Say it like you think he's cute, Rock_ , he'd said. _Like everything he says is funny_. It wasn't even that good of a direction, really. Jack certainly hadn't known what Archie'd meant, couldn't recall ever feeling that way. But sure enough, on that fourth take, Rock had delivered it perfectly, infused that one word with those exact feelings under it, and suddenly Jack knew exactly what Archie meant.

Jack looks up at Rock like he's everything. The start of something, sure, but the answer to something too. Because it's in the screenplay, and after seven takes, Jack thinks he may be starting to get it. 

"Yeah," he tries to answer, but Rock cuts him off halfway, licking into Jack's mouth. The camera likely won't capture that particular detail due to the angle, but it tilts Jack's world on its axis anyhow, the same as all the other ones. 

This time Jack lets himself be led, kissing Rock back like he's learning how to breathe for the first time, strange and a part of his nature at the same time. Natural. 

That's another gem from the screenplay. If Archie doesn't get another award for this one then God might really be dead. 

"Perfect!" Raymond yells. "Cut! Print it, set up for the next shot. That was great guys, seriously." 

Rock pulls away and Jack has to remind himself that he actually needs oxygen to survive, not just Rock's mouth on his. He blinks, trying to get his breathing under control. 

Still on top of him, Rock twists to look back at the rest of the grew, giving Archie a wide smile, shooting him a thumbs-up. 

Over Rock's shoulder, Jack can see the blinding grin Archie sends back.

* * *

Jack shows up at Rock and Archie's place first thing in the morning, crossing through the courtyard with a bag of doughnuts in-hand and a phoney smile stretched across his face. 

Rock answers the door. He's only got the one eye open, sleepy, and hasn't bothered to do up his robe all the way, so it's obvious that he hasn't got anything on under it besides his shorts. Jack grins at him harder, the expression becoming real. "Well," he says, "it's a good thing I don't scare easy, buddy!"

All he gets in reply is a couple tired sounding grunts and Rock stepping to the side, making space for Jack to move past him into the house. Jack heads for the kitchen and finds Archie there, fully dressed, pot of coffee going on the counter and the fixings for breakfast set out beside it. 

"My treat, Arch," Jack calls, handing the bag over to Archie and picking up the stuff on the counter, returning the eggs to the fridge, leaving the milk out for the coffee. He turns to look at Archie over his shoulder and finds Rock cuddled up to his side, both of them looking into the bag. "Although I'll be straight with you, I'm not doing it out of the goodness of my heart."

Archie gives him a look that says more than the two-bit actors in this town manage on their best day. "That right?" He comes to stand next to Jack at the fridge, pulling out a carton of berries and closing the door that Jack had been keeping open. 

Rock's still at the counter, finally reaching into the bag. "Oh boy!" Jack's known him long enough to be sure that Rock isn't shining him on, a genuine, pleased smile breaking across Rock's face as he bites into one of the donuts. Archie does up a cup of coffee, adding in sugar and a bit of milk before he hands it over to Rock, who downs about half of it in one go. "Thanks," he says to Archie, who scrunches his nose at him and then pecks him on the cheek. 

It's like magic. Jack feels like he's back in the workshop with Kincaid, pieces finally falling together. "I need some help with the script, is all."

Archie goes, "And how," right as Rock says, "You're doing great!" They both stop, having a whole conversation with their eyes, not uttering a Goddamn word. 

"Hello," Jack calls. "Other people exist in the world."

Archie does something with his eyebrows, lips twitching over to the side of his face as he finishes off his conversation with Rock. "That's right," he agrees, turning to look back Jack's way. "Some of them even call before inviting themselves over to your house first thing in the morning."

"Aw, c'mon," Jack slides up to him, throwing his arm over Archie's shoulder. "Best friends don't gotta call before they come calling, do they?"

Archie has to tip his chin back to look up at Jack when they're this close. "Whose best friend are you, exactly?"

Jack staggers away, clutching at his heart. 

"Aw, come on, Archie," Rock says, coming over to stand between them, still sipping at his coffee, the bag abandoned on the counter, donut slipped over Rock's finger like a ring. "Stop playing with him." Archie feeds one of the blueberries in his carton to Rock, likely to shut him up, but Rock turns the tables on him, nibbling at Archie's fingers until Archie does this sort of breathy laugh that Jack has never heard him give before. 

He claps his hands together, pointing a finger at the two of them. "See, that right there!" He steps up, throwing his hands over both their shoulders. "That's the magic I'm in search of. C'mon Arch, don't you want your movie to do well?"

Archie ducks out from under his hold and takes another cup down from the cupboard. "I suppose," he says. His hand goes for the pot before freezing in place, Archie turning to look at Jack over his shoulder, an expression on his face like whatever's coming next is going to pain him to say. 

"You want some of this?" he asks.

Jack perks up, pulling Rock tighter to his side, chest puffing up. "Sure thing! Thanks, Arch." 

It gets him an eye-roll, Archie pulling down a third cup. "You still like it doctored the same way?" 

Jack feels his eyes going a little misty. "Yeah Archie, that's swell, thanks a lot." Nobody's ever remembered his coffee order before, not even his wife, back when he had one.

Both he and Rock sort of hover at Archie's sides as he works, Rock getting himself another donut, not seeming to catch the look Archie shoots him from the corner of his eye. 

Once the coffee's done and everyone has their mug, they walk over to the little dining table. There's only the two chairs. Jack wonders if he'll have to take his breakfast standing when Archie sits down in one of them, but Rock settles himself in Archie's lap like it's nothing, polishing off his coffee and sneaking a sip of Archie's own now that it's in reaching distance. 

Jack drops down into what must be Rock's usual seat and finally takes a donut for himself once Archie supplies him with the bag, pointedly moving the carton of fruit closer to Rock's hands. 

"What exactly were you looking to get help with?" Archie asks. 

"Oh you know," Jack speaks with his mouth half-full, hand coming up to catch any crumbs. He takes a pull of his coffee, perfect, just the way he likes it, and hurries to swallow it all down. "Just stuff like this, really. I think I've got the whole love-at-first-sight stuff settled, but them building a life together? I just can't see it."

It gets a look out of both of them. "Oh, don't be like that." Jack steals one of the berries. "You two make sense! Shared passion, had your lives transformed together, it's a foundation, I get it. But Artie and Ray? What have two fellas like that got to build a life on?" 

"What does anyone have to build a life on?" Archie asks, not giving Jack much time to come up with an answer. "How does a business banker from New York City end up with a seamstress from the south, or a plumber end up with a ballet dancer? Love, Jack, that's how. Ray fell in love with another boy during his time in the war and thought he could keep it down, that it would be enough to carry in his heart but not act on it, but coming back to the real world to be a college professor left him with too much time to think."

Rock nods, adding, "Artie may be turning tricks until he figures out he's gonna do with himself, but that doesn't mean he can't be happy for Ray when things start going good for him. Being in love is about having someone to share things with, good and bad."

"Having someone on the journey with you," Archie finishes. 

Jack snaps his fingers together. "See! That's exactly what I'm looking for." He jumps up from his seat and starts looking around the kitchen. Rock's script is on the counter, pen on top. Jack snatches it up and returns to his seat, flipping through the pages. "You don't mind if I borrow this, do ya?" 

"Um," Rock mumbles. "No, it's fine." Then he yelps. 

Jack's head flicks up, quick enough to catch Archie's arm rising up from where it seems to have dropped between Rock's legs, Rock sitting up straight in Archie's lap all of a sudden. 

"Why don't you get dressed, huh?" Archie asks. Rock nods, looking a bit put out. 

"Yeah, alright." He gets up and exits into the living room, heading for the stairs that branch up to the second floor. 

"If you're gonna be here a while," Archie says, "why don't we move this to the living room?"

Jack gets up, picking up the script with one hand, juggling his cup of coffee with the other. "Sure, that's fine by me, Arch."

"I should have a spare out there too," he nods to the script pressed up to Jack's chest, "So that you don't have to go scribbling in Rock's, as if he hasn't got notes of his own in there."

"Oh geez." Jack hands it over, feeling guilty. "Of course. Sorry, Arch." 

Archie takes it and as he goes into the living room, dropping down on the couch. "Don't say it to me." He points to a blank copy of the script that's sitting on the coffee table, picking up his own script book from the side table nearest him on the couch.

Jack repeats his apology to Rock once he rejoins them, looking smart in a sweater that looks like it belongs in Archie's closet rather than his, giving Jack an idea. "Hey," he asks, "do you fellas share clothes?" 

Archie looks at him like he's slow. "Rock's bigger than me, Jack." Which Jack supposes is true enough. Then Rock elbows Archie, making eyes. Archie sighs and tacks on, "I do the shopping for him though, most of the time." Then they're looking at one another again, soppy. "White looks good on him, huh?" 

Rock grins like he's been named best-dressed by the editors of Vogue themselves. He settles down on the couch between Jack and Archie, taking his script when Archie hands it to him. "You and I could probably share sweaters and things, Jack," Rock says. "Not pants or anything, but we're probably the same up top. Archie and I share underthings." 

"Say, you're on to something there, Rock." Jack flips through his script, stopping at the part where Christmas break has finally come for Ray, Artie and he going down to the beach. It's what marks the end of the first act of the film, Ray asking Artie to move in with him after Artie's already been staying over at his house more nights than not anyhow. "Archie, what if here," Jack flashes his script towards the two of them, so they know what he's on about, "we reused one of Ray's costumes for Artie? It would be a way to show all those folks that it's normal. Economical even. Says to all those girls walking around in their fella's shirts that two men can do the same thing. That the fella just a few seats down may be wearing his boyfriend's sweater and you wouldn't even know, it fits so well."

Archie's found the page in his own book, pen twitching between his fingers. "It's not a bad idea," he admits.

"Artie doesn't get many chances to look smart anyhow," Jack goes on. "This way everyone can see Rock looking his best, done up in Ray's clothes like that." Jack isn't the least bit surprised that it seems to be that particular point that gets Archie's pen to touch down on the paper, adding in a note. 

Rock's cheeks are pinked. "Thanks, Jack," he says, smiling down at his knees. 

"Anything for you, pal." Jack flips a few scenes past that, to the first real fight of theirs. "Alright, now it's my turn. Now see, the part where Ray gets upset that Archie's still gotta see other guys as a part of his job." There's the sound of pages turning, Archie and Rock pulling up the scene in question. "How am I meant to play it? Is he really jealous, when this is how he and Artie met? How can he be mad at a guy for the thing that brought them together in the first place? It's not like it means anything to Artie, right?"

"They can't get married," Archie says. "So sex means more. Artie's never going to have a ring on his finger, so Ray thinks them being true to one another is the only thing keeping them together."

"Well, I don't know," Rock interjects. "I think it's more like, Ray knows that he can take care of Artie; that Artie doesn't have to do this any longer, now that he has Ray to fall back on. And, yeah, alright, maybe he knows that Artie's one of a kind, doesn't want anyone else wising up to that fact and trying to take Artie for himself. But that's not _all_ it's about."

Jack nods, writing it down. "Now that's good, Rock." He looks back at Archie. "What if there was a line where Ray says he isn't out there finding other boys to warm his bed while Artie's out working?"

Both Rock and Artie pull a face at the suggestion. "That's not the fight they're having, Jack," Archie says, and Jack suddenly feels like he doesn't understand any of it after all. 

"It's more like: Ray wants Artie to see that Artie's been supporting him this whole time in his own way, helping Ray come into himself, bringing Ray back from just going through the motions, like a ghost. Artie already gets himself in that way. What Ray gives him is stability to step back and find his own path. We know that for Artie this has always just been a job, and him going with other guys doesn't mean the same thing as it does when he's with Ray, but if he can let a little of his pride go to let Ray support him for a bit until the chips fall, is that so much to ask?"

Jack rolls his lips into his mouth. "Can we run it?" 

Rock nods. "Alright." He turns to face Jack, his back to Archie, who scoots over to the far side of the couch, watching them. 

The first thing Jack did was memorize all his damn lines, just like Kincaid taught him, so he doesn't have to look back down at the script when he says, "Artie, I'm pleading with you here, just think about it."

Rock stares him dead in the eye, an immovable force. "There's nothing to think about, Ray," he says. "It's my job! Most nights, I bring home more than your salary does for the whole week, anyhow. You telling me that's worth giving up?"

Jack shakes his head. "It isn't about the money!" Then he cuts in, before Rock can say anything else, "I love you, alright! I'm not making this an ultimatum, I promise I'm not. Just think about it, I'm begging you, sweetheart."

"Cut," Archie says. "Jack, you sound like Jimmy Stewart. It's not meant to be _begging_ -begging; you aren't talking to some girl that's half your age, or a crowd of people fixin' to make a run on your bank."

Jack feels sore, frowning. "Well sorry, Arch, but I don't know how else I'm supposed to play it."

Archie's hands come up, making shapes in the air. "It's like," he tries to put whatever he's thinking into words, but can't seem to manage it. "Here, watch us." 

Rock turns away from Jack when Archie reaches for him, scooting closer to him. Archie puts a hand on Rock's knee, which isn't in the scene directions. "Artie," he says, serious. "I'm pleading with you here, just think on it." Jack can tell right away that it's different from how he was doing it, the even, resigned tone to Archie's voice, like someone talking about their dream to fly to the moon. 

Possible, maybe, one day, but not anytime soon, and not for fellas like the three of them. 

"There's nothing to think about, Ray." Rock turns away, looking into the living room. It gives Jack a view of his side profile, the strong set to his mouth even as something gives in the corners of those big, dark eyes of his. It looks like he could go either way, give in to what Ray's asking or dig his feet in just to be the stubborn fool he is. 

Jack gets what Archie was saying, now. Jack's done a version of this with the girls he's been sweet on, only it's always required him to get on his knees, make a fool of himself, grand gestures that he didn't mean in the end, but were expected from him. Expected from both of him. What he'd seen in the movies, what his father always had to do to get his mom to sweeten back up on him. Things a fella has to do so show he means it, and what a gal has to hear in order not to seem too easy. 

It isn't like that for Rock and Archie. This is gonna be the first picture with two fellas shouting their love for one another, and there's no script to follow. 

Fingers settle on Rock's strong jawline, tilting until his and Archie's eyes meet again, Jack watching them from over Rock's shoulder. Jack slides down onto the floor, moving so that he can see both of their faces. "It's my job," Rock says, sounding less sure of himself. "Most nights, well, most nights I bring home more than your salary does for the week."

"It ain't about the money," Archie says, and Jack believes him. "I love you, alright?" Suddenly it's a question. Archie pauses, his face leaning in toward's Rock's, their foreheads resting together. Rock nods, and Archie laughs, humorless but still infused with that love, like he thinks Rock's ridiculous but loves him anyway. Like everything he does is funny. "Sweetheart, I'm not making this an ultimatum, I promise I'm not. Just think on it, I'm begging you."

"Alright," Rock's voice has suddenly gotten thick, eyes watering, and he springs forward, getting in Archie's lap and kissing the daylights out of him. Archie makes a startled noise that Jack's never heard from him before, but he kisses Rock back just as passionately, hands coming up to card through Rock's hair. 

Jack watches it all from the floor, his mouth wide open, tears in his eyes and his slacks feeling about two sizes too small, like they're meant for a guy Archie's size and not Jack's.

He clears his throat, wiping his eyes and bringing his knees up to his face. "Oh wow, fellas, that was great."

Rock pulls back to grin at him, cheeks a shade of pink that bleeds all the way up onto his forehead, down onto his neck. Archie's just staring up at the ceiling, breathing hard. "Isn't he something?" Rock asks, though Jack doesn't expect that Rock means for him to answer.

He does anyway. "And how! Wow, Archie. Writing's wasted on you."

Their conversation earns Rock a fond look and Jack an exasperated one. "Don't encourage him," Archie says to Jack, even as his eyes don't stray from Rock.

"Who are you talking to?" Rock asks.

Archie bumps their noses together before shifting, forcing Rock to get up off of him. "Both of you, apparently."

"Say," Jack starts, getting up onto his knees, placing his hands on the edge of the couch for balance. "Would you mind if I stayed over for a few nights, like the old days? I think this is exactly what I need, you know? What was it that Dick used to say? People only know what they see? I promise it'll be like I'm not even here! What do you say?"

* * *

The thing is, they actually treat him like he's not even there. 

Jack's never felt more single in his entire Godforsaken life. Watching Archie and Rock cuddled up on the couch as they catch the evening news, walking in on them necking in the pantry at odd hours of the day, waking up to the sight of Rock attached to Archie's back in the early light of the morning, freezing his ass off while the two of them stand warm and cozy in the kitchen, no thought spared for their guest sleeping in the living room where the windows always seem to let in a draft during the middle of the night. 

It's torture like even those bastards running the war couldn't have come up with.

Jack shows up to studio each day in a foul mood, walking behind Archie and Rock where they've got their fingers linked, eyes zeroed-in on the connection, hyperaware of it in a way he wasn't before he started staying with them, cataloging all the small things like that they do all the Goddamn time. 

The wash of it all is that it's working. For all that Jack can't seem to get out from over the clouds following him, things finally start to click on set. He and Rock are on the same page, getting their scenes in the can in an average of three takes, with the other two usually only being thrown in to give Raymond some options to play with in the editing bay.

They're shooting outside, Artie and Ray out on a picnic, scared out of their minds that someone they know might happen to see them, but even more fed-up with having to hide away all the time.

Jack feeds Rock a bite of his sandwich, feeling something warm and real curl up in his stomach when Rock gives him the same look he gives Archie whenever Archie feeds him at home. Jack looks up, eyes casting beyond the camera set up to look for Archie, not sure if he's hoping to see pride on Archie's face, or jealousy, or what. 

What he finds is Archie with his glasses on, focused dialed-in on the script and whatever it is he's writing on its pages, not paying them any mind at all. 

It drives Jack mad.

"Jack!" Raymond calls, "Focus! Still rolling!" 

He looks back to Rock, who's still staring at him from under those nice lashes of his. "Ray," Rock says, giving Jack a look that is far too much like Archie's own for Jack's liking. "Aren't you worried someone might see?"

Jack shrugs and leans back, taking a bite for himself. He uses his tongue to shove the food into his cheek right away, not wanting to fudge his next line. "Ah, let 'em look." The camera pulls back on the dolly right as Rock smiles at him and picks up his thermos, pouring out tea or coffee or whatever it's meant to be, inside the lid. 

"Cut! Great work, everyone. That's lunch." Raymond's order sends them all into action, the set dressers coming to collect all the picnic gear, shooing Rock and Jack away from it. 

Jack spits his bite into a napkin, making a face. "That sandwich was God-awful." 

"I almost laughed in your face when I had to take a bite," Rock says, laughing now that he can. "C'mon, I think Archie brought something." 

Rock goes begging and Jack trails after him, feeling like a kid. Archie doesn't even seem to notice that they're done for the afternoon until Rock presses a kiss to his forehead, lips just barely moving as he says something low enough that Jack can't hear. Archie smiles at him, distracted, and pulls a pair of sunglasses from his shirt pocket, handing them off to Rock, who puts them on, looking like the movie star he is.

"Rock said you fixed up lunch?" Jack asks, standing to the other side of Archie's chair.

"Oh did he?" Archie parrots his tone, turning to look at Rock. 

"Or maybe not," Rock says, looking confused. "Did I get it wrong?"

Archie sneaks a kiss from him, so quick that the rest of the crew likely didn't even catch it. They've been doing that more, being affectionate. He can't imagine that it's all that scary for them, not after they put it out there for the whole world to read about at the award's ceremony. But compared to how they can't seem to keep their damn hands off one another at home, each small act has to feel like it's own little victory out here. 

Jack's getting better at this. Thinking about people besides himself. 

"A little bit," Archie say to Rock. "Jack, you're on your own, pal." 

Jack nods, like it doesn't bother him, even though it does. "Sure thing! Have a good one, fellas. Good work today, Rock."

Rock's fished out a pack of Pall Malls from Archie's jacket, lighting one up. He doesn't inhale more than it takes to get it lit, passing it over to Archie as he finishes gathering up his hat, script book tucked under his arm. "You too, Jack." Smoke slips out from between Rock's lips. His eyes dart to look at Jack, giving him a quick smile before all his focus is back on Archie. 

Jack follows his gaze, the way Archie's lips shape around the filter of the cigarette Rock's just slipped between them. They walk off the set together, two peas in a pod, and Jack just stands there, watching. 

Ernie walks over, his cigarette bobbing as he speaks, "Brother, you need to get laid." He exhales, picking a stray piece of tobacco off his tongue, eyes hidden behind his shades. "And fast, by the looks of it, before you lose two of the only guys willing to put up with your shit."

"Well, I'll always have you, Ern," Jack sighs as Ernie throws an arm over his shoulder, Ernie cackling as he leads them towards the catering table. "I haven't got anybody that I like." Jack picks up a bowl and starts loading it with greens, knowing that they've got another love scene coming up on the docket tonight and used to counting on the meals that Archie whips up for them at home at the end of each day by now. 

If he doesn't watch out during lunch these days, he'll end up built like Rock, something that won't look anywhere near as attractive on a guy Jack's height. 

Ernie, the bastard, grabs himself a bacon sandwich and gives Jack a capitol-L look from over the frame of his glasses.

"What?" Jack asks, annoyed.

"Nothing," Ernie uses a knuckle to press his shades back up his nose. "Anyway, I didn't say you needed to find love, baby. I said you needed to get laid. You're a big Hollywood star, Jacky-boy. Walk into any bar and the girls will throw themselves at your feet just to brag to their friends that they did."

It's not the worst idea.

Jack goes out on the town once they finish filming for the night, telling himself that he doesn't mind that neither Archie nor Rock thought to ask him just where it is that he's going instead of joining them in the car the studio's hired to take them back to the apartment, breaking from the little routine the three of them have developed. 

The first place Jack ducks into is a wash, doorman recognizing him and allowing Jack to cut in line, right into a too-full club with a smoke cloud just at the right height to have his eyes watering. Jack turns right back around and steps onto the street, coughing. 

The next is better, one of the places that actors are known to frequent, but not the sort that has slugs working at Confidential lurking outside, hoping to catch a picture that ruins someone's life. 

Jack sets up camp for himself at the bar, throwing his jacket over the back of his seat and ordering a drink. He knocks back three of them before two nice-looking girls that have been eyeing him up since he walked through the door seem to gather up their nerve to speak to him, coming over to introduce themselves. They're working on the latest Gabel picture as costume assistants and they know just who he is.

"Is it true your next picture is a queer romance?" the blonde one asks. 

He tells himself not to get angry, that he would have called it the same thing. That they seem more interested than disgusted anyhow. Still, he feels his shoulders inching up to his ears, the easy smile he'd been sporting turning into the one he uses for the camera. "Girls, I gotta tell ya," he says, "I've kissed Rock Hudson enough to last me a lifetime!" They laugh, like he expected them to, and he knocks back the last of his drink, coming to stand. "If you'll excuse me, I've got to go powder my nose."

They titter some more, leaning towards one another to whisper about how handsome he is, making a point of saying it loud enough that he can hear it, casting looks his way. He's halfway to the john by the time that he's got his smokes out of his pocket, on-edge, and is just passing through the door by the time he's lit up, wondering to himself if he actually has it in him to make it with one of them. Or both, the way the two of them seem to be going.

There's a fella by the sinks, shaking off his hands. Their eyes meet in the mirror. Jack blinks a few times, realizing that he may be drunker than he thought, drinks hitting him all at once. The man keeps staring back at him, picking up one of the linens sat off to the side of the sink and drying his hands.

"Oh wow," Jack says, hand jutting out in front of him as he walks over. Cary laughs, looking relieved as he turns around to shake Jack's hand. "I'm a huge fan, Mr. Grant. Seriously, just meeting you has made my night."

It gets Jack a smile. "That's sweet," he says. "And you can call me Cary. And you're Jack Castello, right?"

Being on a first-name basis with Cary Grant; Ernie will just about slap him upside his head when Jack tells him the story. "That's right. Does that mean that you saw Peg, then?"

Cary nods. "Voted for it and everything." He looks over Jack's shoulder for a moment, in the direction of the door. Jack realizes that he's still shaking Cary's hand and stops, but can't quite bring himself to let go of it entirely, awkwardly holding it. "I hear your next one is just as daring?"

Jack's grip tightens. "Yes sir, it's a love story between two men. Dreamland, it's called. It's gonna be real good, if you don't mind me saying. Rock Hudson's gonna be a star, just you watch."

"No need for sirs now, Jack," Cary says. He steps closer. Jack isn't used to people being close to his height, but Cary comes closer than anybody else has. He wouldn't need to duck down to kiss him, Jack thinks. All Cary would need to do is lean up a little, and they'd be set. "Unless you prefer it that way, of course."

Jack's seen that smirk a dozen times up on the big screen, and can tell from Cary's tone that it's meant to be a joke. Inappropriate, sure, but they were just talking about a picture about two men being in love. It's just the two of them in this restroom, nobody to take it the wrong way, to read into things.

But Jack's also spent enough time around Rock and Archie, around Ernie, to know the promise of more when he hears it. Cary's still holding on to his hand, fully in Jack's space, face tilted up, smirking at him. 

Jack knows what this is.

He licks his lips. "I think sir fits."

* * *

Jack uses the spare key Archie coughed up on Jack's second night staying over to let himself inside the house, making a line straight to the stairs. He presses his ear to their door once he reaches it, listening to see if he might be interrupting anything.

He must not be as quiet as he thought, because Rock's voice calls out his name from the other side. 

"Yeah," Jack says back, wincing at how loud his voice is. It's possible that he's still drunk. "It's me." 

He opens the door and lets himself inside, using the light coming through their window to make his way over to Rock's side of the bed, dropping down onto his knees on the floor. "Rock," he says, trying to whisper and mostly failing. "I made it with a man."

"Congratulations," Archie says, off to the left. "Couldn't this have waited until morning?" 

Jack frowns, no longer bothering to keep quiet if the two of them are awake. "Aw, come on, Arch," Jack whines. "This is a big deal for me!" 

Rock sits up and turns on his bedside lamp, hugging Jack. He smells good, like sweat and Archie and the powder they use when they run a load of laundry. He's warm, the singlet he's got on drawing attention to how nice his shoulders are, looking gold under the warm bedside light and in contrast to the bleached fabric. 

Cary wore one just like it underneath the light sweater he'd had on. It'd looked good against his skin too. 

Jack blinks, pulling back from the hug, lifting his head from where it'd settled into Rock's shoulder, against the warm swell of his biceps. "He was taller than you, Rock," he goes on. "You wouldn't guess who it was."

Rock frowns, focusing. "Taller than me, and someone I'd know?" he asks, to be certain. 

Jack nods. Then, before Rock really has any chance of guessing, he says, "It was Cary Grant!" 

Archie pops up on the other side of the bed, staring at them. "You're lying." 

It makes Jack grin, wiggling his eyebrows. "Alright, so we didn't make it all the way," he admits. "We necked in the Men's, felt one another up a little through our clothes. It was still him, though."

"Oh my god," Archie leans over Rock's legs, hugging Jack for a second before letting him go, the momentum sending Jack back onto his ass on their hardwood floor. "I can't believe you made it with Cary Grant." He bites his lip.

Jack stares at Archie's teeth digging into the flesh of his mouth and asks, "You want me to tell you about it?" Archie actually looks tempted, though it seems to be despite himself. "You know what they say about us tall boys, yeah?" 

Rock laughs and it makes Archie blink, his smile going a little shy. "Yeah, you what they say, Archie? Huh?" Rock asks.

It's enough to tip the scales. Archie shoves at Rock, rolling back onto his side of the mattress. "Take him downstairs," he says to Rock, pulling the blankets up to his chin. "Tomorrow's the first day off we've had in a month and I'm not letting him ruin my sleep. Who said it was alright for him to make it with Cary Grant, anyways? I'm the only person in this no-taste country who saw Bringing Up Baby."

Rock gets out of bed and holds a hand to help Jack, pulling him up to stand on too-wobbly knees. Rock's hand fans wide over Jack's spine as he leads Jack through the door and down the stairs, whispering for Jack to keep his hand on the banister. 

The couch actually feels good when he slumps down onto it, Rock undoing the laces of his shoes, helping Jack's uncoordinated fingers get his belt undone, sliding Jack's pants down his legs and folding them nice on the back of the chair they've got next to the couch. "I'm glad you had a good time tonight," Rock whispers, and it's the last thing Jack remembers before he's out like a light.

He wakes up a few hours later, somewhere whereabouts six in the morning, seeing as the sun isn't yet up. His head is killing him, ears pounding. He honest-to-God crawls into the kitchen, getting his head into the sink and drinking straight from the faucet. 

The water gets him up on his feet, at least, but doesn't do much else. He somehow manages the stairs, letting himself into Rock and Archie's room again, this time coming up to Archie's side of the bed, the two of them folded-up together more on Rock's. Jack knows better than to get under the covers, but he lets himself be a miserable nuisance anyhow. 

"You cannot be real right now," Archie says, voice full of disbelief where he's half-buried under the blankets, half-under Rock spread out on top of him. 

Rock makes sleepy noises and gets up. The light from the ensuite blinks into the room, followed by the sound of the faucet running. Rock turns off the light and returns to the bed, holding out a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin over Archie, in Jack's direction. 

"Rock, pal," Jack says, gingerly sitting up against the headboard. "You're my new best friend." He gets the cap off with his thumb and shakes four tablets onto his tongue, swallowing them down with the water. 

"I wish you many happy years together," Archie says. "Get the hell out of my bed."

Rock settles himself right back over Archie, kissing him when Archie hisses at whatever now-cold part of Rock's body has come into contact with his own. "He's fine, Archie," Rock says. "Get under the covers, buddy, it's freezing out there."

Jack awkwardly slides beneath the duvet to the sound of Archie's laughter. "Roy Fitzgerald saying that the Californian morning is cold." The mattress shifts with whatever it is Archie's doing, Rock's yelp accompanying it. "Never thought I'd see the day." 

"Well, it is," Rock says, sounding put-out.

Archie ignores him, eyes catching the light of the now-rising sun in the otherwise dark of the room. "If you drool on me," he says, clearly speaking to Jack, "I'm making a complaint with the studio."

Jack makes a mental note to his body to stay put. 

He wakes up again a few hours later, sun fully in the sky and lighting up the room, feeling a little more like himself. 

The first thing he notices is that Rock's hand is touching his arm, a light grip from where it's extended over Archie between them, a single point of contact. It makes Jack smile, pleased with himself for not doing anything that'll piss Archie off, and fond towards Rock for going out of his way, all at the same time. 

Then he realizes that he's a little disappointed, if he's being honest. Somehow his lizard brain managed to successfully get him all the way into their bed, yet this is all he has to show for it, Rock's fingers curled around his bicep.

Finally it occurs to him that he's hard, his dick digging into Archie's hip. Archie sleeps on his back, and as Jack sends a panicked look to Archie's face, he finds that Archie's got his eyes trained right back at Jack's, awake. Frowning. 

Jack has to clear his throat before he can speak, keeping his voice quiet because Rock's still snoring softly to the right of them both. "It's too early in the morning to hold this sorta thing against a guy, don't you think, Arch?"

"This isn't gonna stop until we do this, huh?" Archie asks. Jack has no idea what he's talking about, but he doesn't sound as annoyed as he usually does.

"Do what?"

Archie sighs. He rolls over, turning his back to Jack and cuddling in closer to Rock. He kisses Rock's soft, slack mouth before turning to his cheeks, nosing skin, dopping the odd kiss. He moves on to Rock's neck, dedicating some time to a spot just behind Rock's ear. Rock smiles in his sleep, confused but pleased. Jack can tell the moment when Rock wakes up, feels his own breath catch when Rock doesn't bother opening his eyes, sighing out in nothing short of bliss as Archie's finger and thumb come up to play with his earlobe, mouth staying right where it is. 

Jack's hand goes down to palm himself through his shorts. His breathing starts to deepen, and becomes loud enough that Rock realizes that Jack's still around. His eyes pop open, pupils wide. "Oh God," he says, the pleased flush on his cheeks turning bright red in embarrassment. 

What he doesn't do is shove Archie away, or tell him to stop, or throw himself back and off the bed, any of the number of stupid things Jack would do if he were in Rock's position. 

Archie pulls away from Rock's neck and goes for his lips again. Rock kisses him back, eyes squeezed shut like that'll make Jack go away. 

"I told you," Archie says, interrupting himself to kiss Rock again, both of them getting so into it that Jack forgets Archie said anything at all for a minute, still fondling himself to the sight of them. Archie pulls back, his thumb coming up between their faces, tugging on Rock's bottom lip. "I told you that this was where this was going," he says at last. "It's so damn cliche it could be a story in one of those pulp magazines."

Rock grunts, bringing their faces together, and says, "I don't wanna know what kinda pulp boys like you had down in Memphis, Archie Coleman, but I'll tell you right here there was nothing like this in Winnetka; trust me, I looked."

Archie laughs, the sound turning into a gasp when Rock gets his arms around him, pulling. Rock ends up on his back with Archie on top of him, both of their shirts coming off along the way, tossed down onto the floor. Jack can't take it anymore, shoving his shorts down his thighs and kicking them off to the undefined territory at the bottom of the bed. 

He gets a hand around himself properly, palm sweaty and feeling perfect for it, right as Archie asks, "What do you wanna do?" His hands are cupping Rock's face, staring right into his eyes. Rock looking up at Archie like he's the one who came up with the idea to hang the moon up in the sky. 

"Whatever you want."

Archie grins, leans down to kiss Rock again, who shuts his eyes tight, like kissing Archie feels so good it hurts. "Whatever I want, huh?" Archie pulls back to press down into the tight grip Rock has on his ass, the blanket pooled at their hips. And Rock's hands are on Archie's ass, his underwear lost somewhere in the process while Jack must have been distracted by their kissing. Or maybe, Jack wonders, Archie hadn't had them on the entire night. If that's why he made Rock take Jack down the first time.

Jack has to remind himself to breathe. 

"You gonna be a good boy for me, huh, Roy?"

Rock nods, head raising up off his pillow to chase Archie's lips. Archie pulls back just far enough that Rock can't reach him, laughing under his breath. 

"Yes," Rock pants. "I promise."

Archie stays frozen above him for what feels like a lifetime to Jack, has to be even worse for Rock. Then he shrugs, like he's decided something. "Hey Jack," he calls, not looking away from Rock's eyes. "You can get a little closer, if you want."

Jack doesn't need to be told twice, scooting across the mattress like an idiot, only leaving enough space for his dick to fit without it touching either of them. Archie reaches somewhere beneath the covers and Rock rises up, his legs kicking beneath the covers. "You think I'm still good for it?" Archie asks. "From last night, I mean."

Rock makes a pained noise, his eyes locking with Archie's. "Yeah, Archie. I suppose so."

Archie smiles at him, sitting up. His chest deserves to be in a goddamn magazine, Jack thinks, and not no pulp one neither. One of his arms goes behind him, reaching between Rock's legs, and Jack wants to pay attention, he really does, but Archie sitting up straight like he is, Jack finally has a chance to see Archie's dick, and he'll be damned if it isn't a looker. Thick, uncut. 

"Jesus, Arch," he says, shocked to find his mouth salivating. 

Archie just laughs in response, breathing hard. "Look," he says and then raises up enough that Jack can make out Rock's dick between Archie's thighs, just as gorgeous, similarly uncut, and bigger, even. "Watch this," Archie says, like Jack's thinking about doing anything else, and sits down on Rock like a goddamn magician, making Rock disappear up into his body. 

"Christ alive." 

Rock's hands settle on Archie's thighs as his heels dig into the bed, leveraging himself until he's propped up against the headboard and able to thrust up to meet the roll of Archie's hips in one smooth movement like he's done it a thousand times before. Archie's breath stutters, his hands shooting out grab at Rock's shoulders, anchoring himself. "I thought you said you were gonna be good."

"You calling this bad?" Rock's hands wrap around Archie's back, holding him as he folds his legs under himself, getting up on his knees. Archie's own legs bend, coming to cradle Rock's hips. Their chests end up pressed together, Archie's dick rubbing up against the smooth stretch of Rock's firm stomach, not as much as a mole marking up his skin. "How many times do you think Jack and I have kissed, huh, Arch?"

Archie groans, hands coming up to settle in Rock's hair, one gripping a handful at the base of Rock's neck, the other pushing the hair back from Rock's forehead, where it's started to fall into his eyes. "Too many goddamn times, Rock, that's how many." 

Rock's eyes turn to look at Jack, his face still directed at Archie. "What do you say, Jack? I heard you tried to pick him up, the first time you two met."

Jack springs up onto his goddamn knees, half falls over himself to get his face up to Archie's. Even sat up on Rock's lap, back ramrod straight, Jack's still taller than Archie on his knees. His face hovers close to Archie's, both of them breathing heavily through their mouths. "You aren't playing with me, right fellas?"

Archie smirks. His face turns toward Jack's but his eyes are still looking down at Rock. "One time offer," Archie says, and Jack doesn't need much more than that. He kisses Archie like it's the show stopper in a picture, only Archie doesn't let him keep that up for long, hands coming up to settle on Jack's jaw, turning Jack any which way he wants him. 

Jack only allows himself to pull back once his vision starts to go dark around the edges, sucking in air. "Jesus, Rock," he says, only he hadn't meant to say that at all, but it makes the two of them laugh, breathless, and for some reason that has Jack prouder than anything else he's done. 

He collapses down onto the bed, head resting on Rock's shoulder, eyes a perfect level to watch how Rock's hands work over Archie's dick, perfectly at home. Jack copies the movements on himself, transfixed.

"Hey, Arch," he says, and maybe one day he'll feel embarrassed about the dazed note to his voice, but today won't be it. "Can I touch your thigh without you biting my head off, or is it a no-go?"

Archie laughs, close to getting his if Jack knows anything about this particular topic, even if he really only has his own experiences to go off of. "I'm not the one you gotta ask."

He tips his head back, looking up at Rock. "Just his thigh, Rock, I promise."

Rock makes a frustrated sound, nose scrunching up. He takes Jack's hand, the one that isn't working himself over, and brings it to settle over Archie's dick, his grip outside of Jack's, putting pressure on Jack's hand so that they squeeze together. 

"Shit," Archie pants, "shit." Then he's coming all over both their hands, body frozen above Rock, whose hips haven't missed a goddamn stoke. He lets go of Jack's hand, both of his arms going to grab Archie's face, pulling him down so that they're kissing. Jack lets himself work Archie through it, grip tight as if Rock's hand was still over his, digging his thumb into Archie's foreskin, touching the head.

He manages to look up, away from Archie's lap, to where they're kissing, so close to Jack's lips. Jack's kissed them both now, and isn't that a goddamn laugh riot. 

"I love you," Rock says, right into Archie's mouth, and Jack just can't take it any longer. He pulls his arm back, fingers wet with Archie's come, and works himself over with both his hands until he's coming his damn brains out and nothing else matters. 

Jack ends up on his back, blinking up at the ceiling and sweating into the sheets like he's run a marathon, huffing like a racehorse. Archie's still hovering over Rock, pressing kisses to his face and muttering something about him being a good boy. After about five or so, Rock asks, "yeah?" To which Archie proceeds to say that Rock is _so_ good, and the dreamy look on Rock's face gets even more pleased with itself.

"I am right here, you know," Jack manages to say, once he can feel his feet again. 

Rock and Archie's reply comes in unison, like a pair of twins: "Yeah, we know."

To his surprise, Rock says it with Archie's usual put-upon annoyance, pitch-perfect, though he winks at Jack as he does. 

"Hey!" Archie complains, looking betrayed. "Don't you forget who you're dealing with, Mr. Rock Goddamn Hudson." His fingers draw shapes in Rock's side, driving him to bark out a laugh, trying to squirm away, his face going red again. 

"Mercy!" Rock calls, and Jack gets the feeling he's been forgotten again. 

The worst part of it all is that Jack doesn't actually mind. Sweat cooling on his skin, blissed-out even though all the action he saw wasn't much more than sharing a kiss with Archie and working Archie through it as he met his own end, it's the best Jack's felt since the man from the Academy rang him up and said he was nominated for an award. 

Rock clears his throat once Archie finally lets up, grinning down at Archie's head where it rests on his chest. "I'm real jealous," he says, eying Jack. "Like real, real, jealous. But it wasn't that bad," he admits, eyes closing and starting to sound sleepy, "with you."

Jack hadn't thought it was possible to feel better, but here he is, turning away to moon up at the ceiling. 

"You two are something else," Archie says, sounding like something's been decided. 

Jack watches as Archie steps up off the bed, legs shaking until he seems to remember how to walk on them. It feels something like victory, knowing he played a small part in leaving Archie like that. "I'm gonna take a bath," he says, waiting a second before he slaps Rock on this thigh, getting his attention, Rock's eyes popping back open. "That's you on deck, Winnetka."

Rock manages to roll himself to the foot of the bed, stumbling around on even shakier legs as he double-times into the bathroom ahead of Archie, the water running a moment later. 

Archie looks down at Jack, scratching his stomach. "Well, come if you're coming, I guess."

Jack does.

Rock ends up with Archie between his legs in the tub, soaping up Archie's chest and looking all too happy to serve as Archie's recliner. Jack sets himself up on the bathmat next to tub, Rock's robe a perfect fit over his shoulders, swirling his hand in the water, sometimes going as far to tickle Archie's knees just to watch his nose scrunch up and hear Rock laugh.

* * *

"It's a chance in a thousand that we met," Jack's saying, staring down at Rock. "In a million, even."

Rock opens his mouth, and Jack can tell just from the set of his eyes that he's going to say something that Jack doesn't want to hear, not now, not when Jack hasn't said all that he's needed to. "Haven't you ever just _wanted_ someone?" he asks, infusing his everything into the question. "Someone to call your own? Someone to last your whole life? That's how I feel about you, Artie."

Raymond steps up to the set, frowning. "It just isn't working." He's rubbing at his forehead. 

They've tried this scene ten times, everyone on the production tired from an already too-long day, ready to go home and give it another look in the morning. 

Jack's about ready to deck Raymond, caught up Ray's emotions, feeling like a livewire. Archie comes over with Raymond, fingers scratching at Rock's neck. His other hand reaches up higher, copying the motion on Jack. 

Jack doesn't expect it, but it calms something base in him, his shoulders hanging looser. 

"Let's try it one more time, Ray," Archie says. Raymond pushes his hair back but nods, wordlessly pointing to the cameraman, gesturing for him to reset the shot. 

"This is your marriage proposal, guys," Archie says, squeezing both their arms. "Or as close as it'll ever be, anyway. People are supposed to watch this and wonder just why it is that you two can't get married, after all that you've been through, and how they know the both of you feel. That's what we're after: everyone spilling out into the lobby, asking those kinds of questions."

Jack nods, sniffing. "Yeah, I got it, Arch." He breathes out slowly, trying to get his heart rate down. 

Archie leans in close to Rock, pinching his cheeks. "Knock 'em dead, huh?" Rock sniffs in response, blinking hard a few times, rolling his head back from side to side as Archie walks back towards his chair next to Raymond's. 

"Rolling!" Ray calls.

The second assistant comes up with the sync slate, calling out the scene as he snaps it. 

Jack brings his hands up to cup Rock's face, holding it just as Archie had done. "It's a chance in a thousand that we met," Jack says it like he can't believe it himself, how lucky he is. "In a million, even."

Rock's lips twitch, like he can't believe Jack is letting himself be so soppy. Jack isn't about to let Rock ruin this, not after he's finally gotten the nerve up. Rock can just hear him out, and then say his piece after. "Haven't you ever just _wanted_ someone?" His thumb settles into the center of Rock's bottom lip and Jack stares at it, at Rock's wonderful mouth that says some of the dumbest things Jack's ever heard, sure, but the most heartfelt too. "Someone to call your own? Someone to last your whole life?" 

He leans in, kissing Rock around his thumb, pulling Rock's mouth open with it before getting his hand out of the way. Kissing Rock deep because he wants to, and no way is the studio actually going to use this take, so Jack may as well make the best of it before they break to go home. 

He pulls back, breathing hard and grinning, smiling even harder when Rock beams back at him. "That's how I feel about you, Artie."

Rock's hands settle over his on his face, his thumb rubbing circles into the back of Jack's. "That's how I feel about you too, Ray." 

Jack blinks, feeling a million different emotions run through him. "Yeah?" he asks. 

Rock nods. "Yeah." 

Jack kisses him again, closed-mouthed but just as passionate, before gathering Rock up into his arms and hugging him tightly. 

"Did you doubt it?" 

Jack shakes his head, still not letting go. "Not really," he admits. "It's just, getting you to be sweet is like pulling teeth." 

Rock shouts, digging his fingers into Jack's side. Jack isn't all that ticklish, especially not when he's expecting it and it's happened a good six times already within the past few hours. But he's a professional actor, and so he sells it, twisting away from Rock's fingers, kissing him again until Rock gets distracted enough to stop.

"Scene! Shit, guys, I think that was it." 

Jack stops kissing Rock, shifting his hold into a headlock. "That wasn't half bad, Rock! We may make a real actor of you yet." 

Rock shoves him away, still laughing, and heads straight for Archie, pressing a kiss to his check and cracking a smile out of him. Jack follows behind him, noticing that Archie's eyes are glassy. He isn't surprised that Rock had noticed, hyper-aware and zeroed in on Archie even halfway across the soundstage with Jack's tongue down his throat. 

"That was really great," Archie says, looking at Rock with stars in his eyes and actually sounding like he's about to cry, which just might actually be the thing that does Jack in, once and for all.

Jack goes up to Archie's other side, pressing a kiss to his free cheek, just like Rock had done. "What about me, Arch, huh?" he asks, nuzzling his nose into Archie's neck. "Am I a good boy too, huh?" 

Archie laughs, swatting him away, trying to escape into Rock and missing the way Rock and Jack eyes meet, Jack communicating with his eyebrows until Rock concedes, pressing his own kisses to Archie's neck. Archie gasps, going still before he elbows them both in the stomach, freeing himself. 

Jack doubles over, first in pain and then, once he sees the betrayed look on Archie's face, the blush showing through his skin, from laughter barking right out of him. "Oh my god," Jack pants, "your _face_."

"Fuck you, Jack Castello," he says pointing at him. "And fuck you too, Rock." 

"Aw, come on, Archie," Rock whines, chasing after him. "We were only playing around. I'm sorry." 

Jack's actually expecting it when Ernie shows up this time, standing next to Jack. "Alright, what's going on there?" 

He stands up straight, rubbing at the sore muscles of his stomach, likely bruised from those boney elbows of Archie's. "I dunno," he says, shrugging. "It's nice." 

Ernie hums, like he doesn't believe anything that Jack's saying. Jack figures that it couldn't hurt to say what he's thinking for once. "Twice bitten, third shy. Or something like it, I guess."

"Kid, that ain't how the saying goes." Ernie looks at him, arms folded across his chest. "But I'm proud of you anyway, I gotta say. With friends like those?" Ernie lets out a whistle from between his teeth, shaking his head before he moans, knocking his shoulder into Jack's. "Never been more jealous of a single man in my life, kid, and that's the God's honest truth."

Jack grins, and figures that Ernie isn't wrong.


End file.
